


3E 390, 12th Sun's Dawn

by Saquira



Series: The MoT Elder Scrolls 'verse [7]
Category: Elder Scrolls
Genre: F/M, Gen, Mention of Jagar Tharn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-16
Updated: 2016-07-16
Packaged: 2018-07-24 07:01:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7498680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saquira/pseuds/Saquira
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The quick scratching of the quill stopped when a loud thud was heard from the adjoining room, and the high elf dropped it with a frown on his face as he swept towards the door. He knew very few magicians would be able to send anything through the wards he'd constructed, even less a heavy enough object to create a thumping sound. He also doubted that any of his former teachers or associates would want anything to do with him after such a long time, and as such there really only was one possible sender left.</p>
            </blockquote>





	3E 390, 12th Sun's Dawn

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on August 10th, 2012 on chorrol.com.

The quick scratching of the quill stopped when a loud thud was heard from the adjoining room, and the high elf dropped it with a frown on his face as he swept towards the door. He knew very few magicians would be able to send anything through the wards he'd constructed, even less a heavy enough object to create a thumping sound. He also doubted that any of his former teachers or associates would want anything to do with him after such a long time, and as such there really only was one possible sender left.  
  
Sorcalin stopped as he was just about to open the door to the other room, and looked down at his trembling hand, mere inches from the handle of the door. Why would _he_ even bother using that amount of power unless the delivery was something important? A stone settled itself in his stomach as he thought it over, not finding any plausible answer. What could even be so important, except for the people already in the Altmer's care? He drew in a ragged breath, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment before reaching his hand out towards the door again, features grim with determination.  
  
It swung open easily, and Sorcalin could almost feel his heart stopping as he took in the sight before him. Inaction took hold of his every limb as he stared in shock, and he slumped to the ground before her still body, eyes still wide open with fear. He barely noted the envelope held in her hand, or the hurried steps behind him and then the frantic voice calling to him. Wondering if he was alright, then falling silent at the sight of _her_. Tears ran down his cheeks unchecked, and he stretched his hand out in a daze, seeking _hers_ and hoping, no begging and fervently wishing, to find it warm. But it was as cold as the stones on which they both lay – Sorcalin had not even noticed that he was lying down – and her eyes no longer held the spark that had been there every time he'd spoken to her. Her skin was pale, much like the snow in the winter, and his magic could not feel even a trace of her energy.  
  
She was gone, truly and irrevocably lost to him, and there was nothing that he could do to change that. Unable to get his hands on the heirs and their teacher, the impostor had gone after the protector in the only way he could. By taking away the only person that Sorcalin truly loved. His wife.  
  
It took hours before he was stable enough to reach for the envelope – it bore his seal – and open it.  
  
_I do not take lightly to people who interfere with my affairs, and I trust that this will be a sufficient lesson._  
_You may be interested to know that she was with child – yours – when I killed her._  
  
_J. T._  
  
Fresh tears welled in his eyes, and rage grew in his heart, but the High elf merely dropped the parchment and drew closer to her, cradling his beloved in his arms.


End file.
